


A Strange and Confusing Desire

by moonflowers



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Dirty Talk, Fluff, Humiliation, M/M, Mentions of Voyeurism, None of these things are as intense as the tags suggest, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Sexual Content, Spanking, and finally, believe it or not, mild bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2285655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowers/pseuds/moonflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas has to act as footman after Jimmy's wrist injury. Some punishment is in order for his foolishness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Strange and Confusing Desire

**Author's Note:**

> For catthetamedshrew's prompt :)  
> This is just plain old porn, there's no point in pretending otherwise. Rated E, though I reckon M would do just as nicely.

“You made me look a fool.”

“I hardly think so. If anything, it were me who – “

“I spent the evening playing a role far below my station. It’s not right for an under butler to carry around the starter in the place of a careless footman.”

“Oh come on, Thomas you know that’s – “

“That’s ‘Mr Barrow’ to you, James.”

“Be serious – “

“I’m deadly serious. Now, what do you say?”

“I’m not going to just – Ah… yes, Mr Barrow.”

“That’s better. Now, I think you owe me an apology, don’t you?”

“N - no.”

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you right.”

“No, Mr Barrow.”

“I see. And why might that be?”

“It were an accident.”

“Oh?”

“I was opening a jar for Ivy and – “

“Ah, showing off for the girls, were you?”

“Well, yes, but it was more to get at Alfr – “

“No excuses, James. Because of your arrogance, your big-headedness, your stupidity, you ended up getting hurt, and I had to pick up the slack; take on your work for you. Does that sound about the size of it?”

“…”

“No answer, hmm? No apology? Well, in that case, I think we need to teach you how to respect your superiors, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mr Barrow.”

“Strip.”

_Jimmy does so, piece by careful piece, slow enough to be enticing, to leave Thomas wanting but not impatient. Or not too much, anyway. He turns to face Thomas, left only in his drawers, awaiting the next move. He’s half hard already, and obviously so in his state of undress. He knows Thomas takes pleasure in seeing him as such, mussed up and hopelessly aroused, which gives him his own pleasure in turn. Jimmy knows the game, knows what comes next, and it’s difficult to keep his anticipation in check. He should be hating this, loathing every moment, but it’s **Thomas,** and Jimmy half knew from the moment he saw him he’d be keen to impress this man. Though he never could have guessed quite how much._

“Good boy.”

_If Thomas were a rich man, he would have commissioned a painting of Jimmy like this. Nude. Or nearly so. His lithe body draped languidly over a chaise longue, or against a pillar, or something equally cliché and opulent. Every curve, every line, each rise and hollow, places where the light catches his skin copied and teased onto canvas, his image immortal. He very much doubts that Jimmy would enjoy this, but it’s a private thought, and he can do with it what he pleases. Where would he hang the thing though? It seemed pointless to hang it opposite his bed when the real thing was in it. Besides, a portrait would be nothing compared to actuality. He could not run his hands over a picture, catch a hardened nipple with his thumb, feel breath hitch under his fingertips, or press a palm gently between his legs, and feel the eager twitch his touch brought on. No, the real thing will do him well enough. Thomas steps away smartly, smirking at Jimmy’s sharp breath and the way he arches after him, and picks up the tie draped – seemingly by chance – over the back of the chair. Wordlessly, he raises an eyebrow at Jimmy, who obediently lifts his arms in front of him. Ordinarily, Thomas would have bound him at the wrists, but he cannot, because of his ludicrous accident, so instead he loops and binds the tie just below the elbows._

“Who bandaged your wrist?”

“…Ivy.”

“Oh? It’s not enough to be showing off for the girls, but you need them to tidy you up after you make an idiot of yourself too?”

“No, she offered. I wanted you to – “

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Why did you ask then?”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Now you, then.”

“Now me, what?”

“Your clothes.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“But I want to see you.”

“Don’t pout, now.”

“I was not – “

“Shh. There’s something not quite right here, don’t you agree?”

_Thomas kneels slowly in front of him, and Jimmy feels a brief flare of irritation because that’s not the game, but then he can feel Thomas’ hot breath on his cock through his underwear, and that just about makes up for it. Thomas digs his thumbs hard into Jimmy’s hip bones, before pulling his underwear down his legs and to the floor._

“My, my. Somebody’s certainly eager to be punished.”

“Mm.”

“And you wear a blush so well... Now then, over the bed.”

“What?”

“Bend forward, and lean your elbows on the mattress. Feet on the floor, arse up.”

“Must I?”

“This is meant to be a punishment Jimmy, remember? Somebody needs to teach you to treat your superiors with the respect fitting their title, and it appears the task falls to me. That’s right. Feet further apart.”

“Better?”

“Speak up, James. You’re mumbling.”

“Is this better?”

“Yes. Comfortable?”

“No.”

“Good.”

_That isn’t exactly true. Physically, no, Jimmy isn’t comfortable at all – the tie digs into the soft skin of the crook of his elbow, his legs ache a little already, and his back is protesting at the position. And his wrist throbs still, which isn’t helping matters. Mentally though, is another matter entirely. Though his face is hot, and his stomach roils with an uncomfortable roll of humiliation, he can barely conceal his anticipation. It takes a lot to refrain from barking at Thomas to bloody get on with it. But Thomas is making him wait, the bastard, and the expectation is almost unbearable._   
_It isn’t something Jimmy ever dreamed he’d enjoy so; to be so exposed and at the mercy of a lover. He had always been wound so tight, so adamant to appear in charge, to ‘be a man.’ So naturally when Thomas had first suggested they try something like this, he had balked, and hadn’t spoken to him for two days. But then his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he handed the reins to Thomas, so to speak, and it had sent pleasure jolting and coursing through his body like he’d never thought possible. It is a strange and confusing desire, and he doesn’t like to dwell on it, but the fact that Thomas can give him this unimaginable wealth of sensation makes Jimmy love him all the more._

“Are you just going to look, or are you going to do something about it?”

“I would say rudeness doesn’t suit you, but I’d be lying.”

“Am I supposed to say thank you?”

“Cheeky. Anyone would think you wanted me to punish you, James. Put you in your place.”

_The last he whispers in Jimmy’s ear, leaning down close over his back, enough so that Jimmy can feel his weight, but careful not to rest too heavily. He lets his breath flow hot over the back of Jimmy’s neck, leaves a kiss in its place, trailing licks and running teeth gently across his shoulders and slowly down his back. Christ, every time he tastes better than the time before._

“This is nice and all… but I don’t really think… it’s teaching you a lesson, hmm…? And we can’t be rewarding you for bad behaviour… now can we…? What shall we do with you… Jimmy Kent? I’d like to say the dressing down you got from everybody else would have done the trick… but somehow… I doubt it. And your pride’s a little bruised I shouldn’t wonder… but is it enough…?”

_He squeezes Jimmy’s shoulder, just once, barely noticeable, and sees Jimmy’s almost imperceptible nod in return. He pulls back sharply. It’s all he needs._

“Well, we could always try the traditional approach. It usually works with spoilt boys.” 

_Smack._

“Ahh!”

“You’re vain…”

_Smack._

“Arrogant…”

_Smack._

“And you’ve no…”

_Smack._

“Ughh.”

“…respect.”

_Smack._

“Are you trying to rub yourself off on the sheets, Jimmy? Did I say you could do that?”

_Smack._

“No. I didn’t.”

_Smack._

“Ahh…”

“Quietly, now.”

“Yes – Yes, Mr Barrow.”

“But perhaps this isn’t enough. After all, we all know how highly you think of yourself, Jimmy. How much you care about what other people think of you. So perhaps a more public punishment would do the trick, hmm? Something so that everybody can see just how sorry you are.” 

_Jimmy feels like his legs are going to give out. Thomas runs a hand gently over his sore skin, kneeling behind him, and his hands are replaced by kisses, and Oh Lord, Jimmy knows what’s coming, and he would never admit even under the pain of torture how much he enjoys what Thomas is about to do to him. Although it is a kind of torture in itself, albeit a marvellous one, and his reaction more than enough evidence of how pleasurable he finds it. The kisses become messier, melting into licks, and Thomas’ clever fingers are spreading him apart and he feels dauntingly and wonderfully exposed. Thomas is tonguing at him, licking him open, sloppily pulling away between swipes of his tongue to goad him further. Jimmy never imagined words could give such delight._  
 _Back when he was younger, and first gathering some vague and shapeless understanding of sex, he’d believed it was all physical sensation, no sentiment, and certainly no words. As he got older, he’d discovered he was correct to believe in the significance of the physical, but remained confused as to how love and all that fit into it. It wasn’t until Thomas that he’d experienced it first-hand. And later still before he learnt how words uttered when they were together could bind him up and unwind him all at once and bring a strange burst of pleasure that touch alone could not. He knows Thomas would love to see his face as it twists into shapes of want and need and desperation and love, but Jimmy’s glad he can’t. He is well aware of his overly expressive face, and now of all times, he knows he can’t make it behave._

“Perhaps if I were to do this to you over the table in the servant’s hall, hmm…? Bend you over the scrubbed wood where we eat breakfast every morning, with everybody watching... Seeing how much of a little slut you are, how much you want this… Your moans echoing off the kitchen walls.”

“Enough! Thomas, please…”

_Though Jimmy’s rough-voiced begging is music to his ears, Thomas gives in to his plea and turns him over onto his back on the bed, settling over his thighs, his still pristine livery a superb contrast to Jimmy’s sweating, flushed skin. He works his hand torturously slow over Jimmy’s cock, dragging his fingers at such a pace to drive him mad, one hand around the base to keep him from coming._

“Agh, let go, damn you.”

“I think you know what I’m waiting for, Jimmy.”

“Ughh, Thomas…”

“Come on…”

“I can’t – “

“Beg me.”

“…”

“One little word, Jimmy.”

“Ahh…”

“One word, Jimmy, and you’ll be coming so hard you won’t be able to remember any other feeling in the world except for my hand on your cock.”

“Ugh, fine, please!”

_Jimmy has done as he asked, and so Thomas lets him come, his body arching and quaking through orgasm, mouth open and eyes shut, and Thomas is thankful he can see Jimmy’s face now. He knows Jimmy gets embarrassed by his revealing expressions, and of course he enjoys the little sour looks and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles about some little thing or another through the day, but it’s this he enjoys the most. All propriety or attempt to hide himself destroyed entirely as he loses himself to bliss._

“Ah, Thomas, God knows I love you.”

“My darling boy…”

_The charade falls apart with Jimmy’s admission, and Thomas leans down to kiss him at last, desperate and messy as Jimmy’s body quietens, and he meets Thomas’ kisses with equal fervour. He eases the tie from Jimmy’s arms. Not as selfish as many people seem to think, Jimmy shoves his shaking hand into Thomas’ trousers, stroking him quick and rough. He’s close enough already from the little show Jimmy’s body has been playing out underneath him, and he finishes quickly, gasping over Jimmy’s lips and clutching at his shoulder._

“Thomas?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

“What on earth for? It wasn’t exactly a hardship.”

“For… I don’t know, indulging me.”

“Well, you’re certainly welcome, though you needn’t thank me. It wasn’t like I didn’t get nothing out of it.”

“I know, but… well it’s not exactly a normal thing to ask for, is it?”

“You’d be surprised… I’ve told you about the Duke of Crowborough, haven’t I?”

“That posh bloke you carried on with for a bit? What about him?”

“Remind me to tell you more about him sometime.”

“Hm. Alright.”

_Together, they strip Thomas of his livery as their breathing evens out, and settle back onto the sheets. He feels a soppy old fool for even thinking it, but Thomas believes this may just be his favourite part; when they lie together, drowsy and sated, the warm weight of their bodies heavy against each other, and their hearts light with the notion of it. Jimmy rests his head on Thomas’ shoulder, running his fingers over Thomas’ chest and his belly, always fidgeting, even now on the edges of sleep. His voice is low and muffled against Thomas’ neck._

“You’re a wonder.”

“I could say the same of you, Jimmy Kent. I’m still not sure what on earth I could have done to deserve you.”

“And you’re positively filthy to boot.” 

“Thank you.”

“I mean it. You were on top form tonight, no mistake.”

“Always good to know my efforts are appreciated.”

“I love you all the more for it, you know… You aren’t really angry with me, are you? You looked about ready to murder someone when you had to step in for me at dinner.”

“Not any more. I were a bit miffed, yes, but I think you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Mm. Goodnight, then.”

“Night, love.”

“Ughh, would you bloody listen to us.”

“Disgusting, isn’t it.”

“Mm, wonderfully so.”

**Author's Note:**

> There was going to be an end section at breakfast the next morning, with Alfred being all awkward and like "Jimmy, if you want to go with Mr Barrow, that's great, but could you please not be so ruddy loud next time?" But it didn't quite fit with the rest.


End file.
